The Festival of Revival

[Soliath Devin Talith]

A tree.

A simple thing. An innocuous thing that no one suspected of anything. A tree stood on every world that Moross had conquered, Below the earth, above the ground, beneath the seas. There was always a tree. A tree that represented something, new life, new dawn, revival. It represented the spirit of one of the Gods of Moross. It represented a pilgrimage, a new hope for those that had joined the faith.

The trees had no name, they had no scientific or regular denomination that would have done them justice. They were simply there, in every capital, on every world. There was always a tree. The greatest of trees sat on Exocron, the first from which all saplings derived from.

Around it, were thousands.

Countless people had made the pilgrimage to Exocron, thousands upon thousands of men and women had traveled from all over the paradise world, had come to partake in the Festival of Revival. Food, drink, everything anyone could ever hope for was provided. The Festival of revival was a time of celebration, of no worries. It was a party all across Moross space, and although there were still Crusaders about, and still Vali on every world, it was clear that celebration was the only thing on the minds of the people of Moross.

In Exocron, Soliael stood.

On the balcony high above the city streets he watched as thousands of people cheered and celebrated. Countless worshipers, each running amok in the city, drinking, eating, yelling. He watched them, a smile dawning on his face.

 

[Crystal]

Crystal helped herself to a drink as a tray of them was carried by her. With a smile she took a sip of it. The Priestess wore a gown that reached the floor and displayed the colors of the Goddess Hali’s followers. And there were a great many wearing the same colors already enjoying the festivities. What was much more pleasing to the blonde was that followers of all the Gods and Goddesses were celebrating. The sea of varying colors stretched for as far as her eyes could see.

Experiencing that much pleasure and joy from so many was an unusual experience for Crystal. But, it didn’t suck. In fact, it was growing on her. She had completely embraced the lifestyle and attitude of those that she had judged when she had first arrived on Exocron. Why shouldn’t she lead a life of indulgence after focusing on others for so much of her life? The Sith had earned it after a life devoted to study, and teaching, and retaining power.

Plus, she liked the people. She liked the living Gods. For once in her life, she didn’t have to be the God. And that was something to celebrate.

 

[Mercury Zealot]

Celebration.

Celebration.

The word seemed difficult for the Metallic Monstrosity known as Stone Hermes: First Convert of Resu, and indeed, all others of his ilk.

For one thing, upon his Homemoon of Shikyu, his culture was divided between those who Zealously anticipated this event, and those who mourned the fall of civilization itself. That divide of course, existed between the Plagued Resu, and the Old Resu, those touched by the Gods and the blade's blade of Stone Hermes, versus the unfavored.

Despite the anticipation however, there were many troubles still at hand. Stone Hermes had been called from the front lines, along with many other Resu Elite. Their numbers were dwindling, suffering from a plague that affected them in ways almost as unnaturally as the one that made their flesh hard as the flesh of a machine. The Old Resu were suffering from a currently incurable disease, slowly destroying them, preventing the hatching of newborns. Ordinarily that would not be a problem for the Plagued, except for the fact that the gift of the All Mighty God Neth prevented them reproducing by natural means. It had become a new custom on Shikyu, to turn several elderly Old Resu, but it became harder when the Resu started to die before becoming old by means other than combat.

Stone Hermes was in the midst of a solution, but the cure would be long in the making, and while Moross prospered... the Resu stagnated. Their service to the Crusade would then be diluted as merely Honorary, rather than the deadly threat they were meant to be. The most dreaded aspect of the cure however, which kept it from progressing the most out of all other reasons, was because it inherently involved direct enemies of the Crusade, and the Resu personally; vong "tech". There was still a species barrier to cross in order to acquire the Vongspawn-virus into their genome, especially since their biology consisted of inorganic materials (most notably silicon).

But that was an issue to pressed upon another time, as it was all about...

"Celebration?" Second Convert asked, unfamiliar also, with the term. Stone Hermes looked over the latest experiment, once again a failure for reasons he could not comprehend, but he put faith in his engineers. They would find a way... eventually. Without turning he replied.

"Indeed. An act most unnatural to us I fear. I imagine it to be ceremonious... much like... praying... though with less combat. I have observed such 'Celebrations' before, such as the appearance of Kalee the Blade. A massive congregation is common, and a show of strength I believe, by the one being honored. It seems the crowds writhe in some manner, as if indicative of a victorious battle of some sort. If memory serves correctly, I do believe indulgence is a heavy portion of the prayer, many of the beings around me seemed to consume things that to me, did not appear to be alive." Trying to explain a joyous event to a race that has only known few emotions, all of them negative, was akin to explaining mathematics to an infant. It was very difficult to get the point across.

"Shall the Entire Elite then be organized at the Rendezvous point?" The Convert asked.

"They shall organize in a surrounding formation about the base of the Heavenly Structure. Ensure that their bodies do not remain still, this I remember from my visit to Exocron, the army must pulse in movement. Promise them a dozen pods of Resu Beastlings once they return to Homewaters. That should encourage them further..." Stone Hermes clarified the provisions of what would certainly be Shikyu's first official celebration.

"Though the word of the Gods is encouraging enough, to say otherwise is treasonous." The Convert would have gasped if that were anatomically possible.

"As we know. The words of the Gods are heard most clearly though, upon the promise of filled stomachs. Go now. Be to the Rendezvous point, and we shall demonstrate our strength to the masses as 'Celebration' for our Gods dictates."

Interesting, is most definitely the word to be used here, to describe what is about to go down in the Realm of Resu.

 

[Elanai Daru]

Stoic yellow eyes would seemingly calmly watch the Festival unfold. She stood at the top of a nearby hill of this world's specific celebratory tree, the soft gust of wind picking up the raven tresses of her hair along her silver and black gilded headdress.

Her face was pale, Umbaran that she was the alabaster of her face was only enhanced by the application of artifice. Dark Kohl lined eyes were enhanced by the smudge of vermilion shadow, and a singular streak of red would draw a vertical line over the fullness of her lower lip.

While many would be garbed among the white and gold of the Goddess of Rebirth, Sybilla Daru would stand in robes of black accented by grey. For one who so worshiped the God of Destruction, Natural disaster, and Unholy Miracles this event... well...

One would say represented everything to her contrary.

Yet from utter destruction one can new life be reborn.

 

[Mercury Zealot]

The arrangements appeared to be going smoothly, as was expected. The many hundreds of the Resu Elite in perfect order and harmony has risen to the surface of their moon, where despite the lack of atmosphere or any natural resources, a magnificent tree stood tall against the harsh black sky, peppered with stars and invaded by the apparent "planet rise" that dominated a quarter of the sky at present. Soon though, there would also be a sunrise, creating a unique sky line that could only be found on a moon, there was even the glimpse of a nearby neighboring moon off to the other side of the horizon.

The scene would be no less visible to those who saw primarily in infrared, but the range of colors apparent in their gas giant, or the uniquely colored moon, or the tree itself was muddied into a dull thermal image, making most of what should be beautiful into merely a busy landscape. Their star showing off its bright hot image, and the gas giant Realm of Resu was merely a dull blob of heat, and the moon hardly appeared as anything other than a dot. The stars? They were often hard to spot, and thus their beauty was detracted from.

Among many things, this was merely one reason why the Resu were so different from any other sentient creature in the known universe. All that was beautiful to a human was muddied in the senses of a Resu, and all that should be happy was misunderstood by the beings, as all they've known is the harsh cold embrace of their world, the hostility of their environment, and the need to ensure your family survives over your own life. War was not a game to them. War wasn't even their life. War simply was the Resu, and continues to be. One might say that they are the perfect soldiers, as they are utterly loyal unless betrayed, will without fail fight until they are completely dead, will always carry out objectives until the last man, will listen to orders and only deviate when it is necessary for the completion of their objective (no matter the risk), and they literally have no sense of remorse or anything holding them back from putting their best into a task. This is all in addition to their now physically monstrous form, which allows them to take more damage then they should conceivably be able to, survive in places most can't, to be stronger then their ordinary biology should allow, as well as electrocute any man or thing from a distance, all along with the deadly ability to turn an enemies ordinary flesh into obedient machinery from any number of sharp points on their body.

They were more warmachines now than warpeople. Yet in their loyal zealousness, they would defying their own nature to engage in something that they would never truly understand. Which in a sense, was at the core of this celebration: to be revived. The Resu were essentially a stagnated people, isolated to their corner of space with no real hope of advancing very much beyond sublight expansion, but with the coming of the gods, with the Gift of Neth, through the Trial of Liad, and the Grace of Inari, the Resu people were ascended to a higher plane of existence, where the whole galaxy was open to them, in one of the greatest Revivals of history. Primarily they had Neth to thank for, but it was through his kin no doubt, that they are indebted to the Moross Crusade.

 

[Serian Loria]

The Sith in his time had never had such an event such as this. The swirling concotion of abandon and festival was almost unnerving to the former Sith Lord. Most of the settled contentment of the Crusade was hard for him, so used to living always on edge as he was. He kept wondering when the tithe would be called in, waiting to be told what he would have to sacrifice for everything he had been given. There had to be a cost, there always was, but what?

True he’d pledged himself to them, to fight, kill and perhaps die in their name, but there had to be more. He still craved...something. This calm could be hiding a steep price and he just couldn’t enjoy it as so many around him were. He spotted [member="Crystal"] , a familiar face among the crowd, but didn’t move from where he stood. His back rested against the pillar, his head tilted down almost as if he was watching the ground, his lashes obscurring his lit ruby gaze.

Words floted meaningless in the air as he stood apart from it all, watching the faces around him. He was effectively trapped till the festivities were over, residing in the temple when he would rather be home, away from it all. However there was another reason why he wished to be gone, one person to be specific. The ruby eyed archivist had started to grow attached to the woman who’d of late been much help. Something that made him quite uncomfortable. Attachment was a method others could use to hurt him and he couldn’t bring himself to let anyone realize he had ties that could be used.

She was the one he often went to for council, he even took specifit interest when requests came from her area of the temple. Simple things, but enough to add more anxiety to the list. She wasn’t a stubborn apprentice, but a Master, she was hardly going to be easy prey...and yet. Then there was the subject of the child he had adopted, he’d rend the very planet apart to see her protected. Still he wasn’t satisfied. He pushed away from the pillar and found the priestess, gently touching her shoulder to get her attention. “In the other room there is dancing, would you like to join me?”

Plenty enough time to chew on the list of his worries later, at least he could pretend to enjoy himself. Though at that moment was he really so sure he was pretending?

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Crystal felt eyes on her, but that wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation considering her dress. She also felt a great many familiar presences around her, so she wasn’t particularly aware of the close vicinity of Serian. Also with the endless flow of emotions coming from the party goers, she’d refrain from seeking thoughts from others. That was simply opening a flood gate, and that was never a smart idea in any case when the mind was involved.

And so, she was genuinely surprised when a touch came upon her shoulder. The Priestess turned around and offered a smile. “Serian, I’m pleased you could make it.” The flute drained quickly and she placed it on another passing tray. “Dancing would be lovely.”

Her dress trailed behind her as she headed to the room that he’d indicated and she paused to let him catch up, and lead.